Detention
by The Lost Weasley
Summary: DH (of course). What happens when Draco tries to be nice for once and help out a fellow Slytherin?


Title: Detention

Author: Nicki aka Pansy Parkinson

Rating: R…for language and fun and sexy H/D slash…almost smuttish, but not enough porn and there's a tad of plot to it. Hehe.

Disclaimer: Yes, I said H/D slash. As in Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy getting it on like two bunny rabbits. If you don't like it, that's what the back button is for. If you've gotten this far, congratulations…and the Legal Stuff…I don't own them, yada yada yada…but damn. I wish I owned The Felton. I mean…

Author's Note: First attempt at slightly more descriptive macking and snogging. Meh. It's not that great. Sorry.

*

Blaise Zabini walked out of her dorm in pajamas and sat down in an irritated huff next to Draco.

"You know, if you wear purple, it means you're sexually frustrated." Draco gave Blaise the once-over: purple tank top and pajama pants.  "I only have to wonder what's going on with you and Potter."

"That's just the problem," Blaise blew out an exasperated breath and played with her hair impatiently, "There's NOTHING going on!  Honestly. We've been together for a month and I could get more ass out of the fucking dead soul of Cedric Diggory.  I'm considering cheating on him just to get some."

Draco laughed.  "Not like you didn't get ass out of Diggory while he was alive."

"Don't remind me," she pointed a finger at him menacingly.  "Remember what happened the last time you ragged on one of my ex-hookups?"

"I'm just oh, so scared of the wrath of you and a Quaffle, Blaise dear."  He let out a sarcastic laugh, then immediately turned his face to stone.  "Seriously, though?  I'll talk to him. You become quite the bitch when you don't get any ass."

"You? Talk to Harry for me? What a sweet friend," she teased back.  "Come on. This has to be in your best interest or you wouldn't be doing it for me."

"Just what I said. I don't need you being a bitch. And as for Potter, I have a meeting with him actually. Detention with Mrs. Figg.  I'll talk to him then."  He began to leave the common room.  "Oh, and Blaise? Get some sleep. You look like hell."

Draco strutted down to Mrs. Figg's classroom, more recently known as Professor Quirrell's classroom, Professor Lockheart's classroom, Professor Lupin's classroom, and Professor Moody's classroom.  The fifth DADA teacher in five years.  Honestly.  Hogwarts should have done something about this…he made a mental note to owl his father about it.

Har—erm—Potter was already there when Draco walked in.  Mrs. Figg appraised Draco with a critical eye.  "You're late, Mister Malfoy.  No matter.  Your task for tonight is a joint effort for both me and Professor Sprout.  I'm planning a demonstration on the combatant properties of certain plants, and you two have to go gather those plants and bring them to Professor Sprout for cultivation.  Here's a list."  She handed each boy a list.  "You should be able to find most of these down by the lake; a few you might have to search for, but maybe you'll think twice before hexing each other in my class again."  Again, the evil stare.  "I expect these plants in Greenhouse Three no later than two o'clock AM.  And again, it shouldn't take you that long, but just in case.  Dismissed."

With that, the two boys trudged outside the Castle and walked towards the lake where they had to gather plants.  A light mist had begun and covered the boys with a sheen of wetness.  Draco was the first to speak.

"You're fucking with my sister."

"You don't have a sister, Malfoy."

"Blaise.  She's practically my sister.  And she's also a mess.  And sexually frustrated…not that that's any of my business, though," he added through a smile that was half sarcasm and half…something strange.

"And that's my fault?"

"I should think so.  It's not anyone else's.  You're the one who's dating her."

"Not like I want to."

"Then why are you?  Find someone else."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Harry looked him square in the eye.  "Because if I did, the system would go to hell."

Draco raised an eyebrow.  "Would it now?  Do tell.  I'd like to see how Golden Boy Potter could ever do anything wrong."  Harry wriggled uncomfortably next to him.  Was that a blush forming?  The Boy Who Lived? Blushing at an uncomfortable question?  He must have really hit a nerve.

"The thing is…well…It's kind of complicated…"

"Oh, out with it, Potter.  We've only got until two. And it's," he consulted his pocket watch, "already eleven."

"Well, I'd rather not say why my liking…someone…would mess up the system."  He had almost let it slip.  Harry rubbed his hands together nervously, trying to dissipate the mixture of sweat and rainwater that had been building up on them.

"Someone?  Really?"  Draco had to be just a bit of a tease.  It would be a waste not to.  Although he was pretty sure he knew where this was going...not that he was against where it was going.  "It sounded like you were going to tell me.  What's with the about-face? Is it someone I know?"

"You—you could say that, I guess," Harry couldn't bear to look into Draco's eyes.

"Well," Draco continued, "If you're not going to tell me, I suppose I'm going to have to guess."  He tilted Harry's chin up and wiped some of the rainwater off his face with the sleeve of his robes.  "You're completely overdressed for the weather…Harry."  He whispered the last word.  With that, Draco grabbed Harry square by the shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed him.

It might have not been the best time or place: in Detention on a Tuesday night, rain coming down all around them, but it didn't matter.  The two clung to each other, partially out of lust, partially out of desperation, partially because they were trying to stay dry underneath Draco's cloak.  

Finally Harry gave up.  He unfastened Draco's cloak and laid it down on the soggy grass, pulling the boy with him.  Harry pinned and straddled Draco to his cloak.  A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder roared across the sky.

Harry moved slowly, first removing Draco's shirt and attempting to lick up all the rainwater with precisely placed kisses across his chest.  But Draco was not to be toyed with.  He grabbed Harry and flipped him over expertly, Harry now below Draco.  Harry smiled at him.

"You seem like you've done this before."

"Not really.  I just get what I want. And right now," he kissed Harry hard enough to cause the two of them to come up gasping for air, "I want you."

Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky over the lake with a brightness comparable to that of daylight.  No one was around that early Wednesday morning; had some unsuspecting witch or wizard flown by on their broomstick, they would have been able to see perfectly well what was going on down by the lake, precluding the rain, of course.  Two boys, entwined in positions that you thought only existed in books and through television special effects.  You wouldn't admit it later, but you know those two boys were Hogwarts students, breaking myriad rules.  You wouldn't have a problem with it, because, hey, everyone's entitled to a little fun.

Harry's eyes fluttered open.  The rain had all but stopped.  He woke Draco up with a soft kiss and muttered to him, "We're late."

Draco checked his watch.  "3:30.  Well," he said, smirking, "I guess that means another detention for us?"  He rolled over onto his stomach, lay an arm across Harry, and went back to sleep.


End file.
